


Home Is Where the Dictionary Is

by Brigantine



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-25
Updated: 2011-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brigantine/pseuds/Brigantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray is trying to improve his vocabulary.  Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is Where the Dictionary Is

**Author's Note:**

> ALL of the snippet challenge prompts, man. All the prompts.

Inspector Thatcher walked into the consulate's kitchen just as Ray was asking Fraser, "What does 'tumescent' mean?"

"Swollen," the inspector told him, cutting off Fraser mid-breath. She filled her coffee cup. "Why?"

Ray's chair teetered on its hind legs as he read aloud, " _Daniela tossed her long, blond hair defiantly as the devilishly handsome count advanced on her across the midnight lawn._ "

Elbow deep in soap suds over at the sink, Fraser shook his head at Ray and made desperate little strangled noises, which Ray ignored.

" _Count De Marco trapped Daniela with the sensual heat of his piercing blue orbs, the velvety skin of his turgid member glistening in the silver light of the tumescent moon._ Okay, see," Ray said, poking a forefinger at the printed page, "that part didn't make sense before. Wait, what's 'turgid'?"

Thatcher blinked at him. "That also means swollen. What on earth are you reading?"

"Wow, that's a lotta swelling goin' on."

Fraser made a soft sound like a stranded carp.

Ray held up the book to show Thatcher the cover where a naked, hairy man twined muscular arms around a voluptuous, half-clad blond woman, who appeared surprisingly tolerant of the gesture. A gloomy, ruined Italian villa loomed in the background.

" _Fangs of Love,_ " Ray explained. "Found it on a park bench while we were on stakeout today."

The inspector winced. "Ah. I'm going now." She slurped carefully at her coffee, turned on a sensible heel, and went.

It occurred to Fraser in the ensuing silence that if he were living in his own apartment these sorts of awkward situations might be avoided.

"Hey Frase," Ray wondered, "What's 'lave' mean?"

Classified ads, Fraser promised himself. First thing tomorrow.


End file.
